Rediscovered Dreams
by Bella4
Summary: Our favorite couple find themselves needing each other more than even they can know. Sequel to Once I Was Loved.
1. Looking to the past, I can't see my futu...

Author Note: Yes, I know that this has been a long time in coming, but I wanted this to be just right before I put it up. The last story didn't go too well because I think that I was too hasty in trying to get stuff written. I don't know how long this story will take, or how it will end up, but I think that it is an intriguing enough beginning. Bear with me, I'm thinking of things as I go along.

Standard Disclaimers Apply. I borrowed one line from the Edgar Allen Poe poem, "The Raven". 

Rediscovered Dreams

Chapter 1

The green grass contrasted sharply with the dull brown earth piled on top of it. The pile was slowly becoming smaller as the cemetary hands filled in the jagged hole in the earth, shoveling the dirt over the gleaming wooden casket that was also occupying the hole. A woman stood at the foot of the grave, silent. Her eyes pulled in every detail, every memory that it could, as if she wanted to burn the image into her brain. Many of the people who had attended the funeral shook their heads at the lone figure dressed in black. So young, and yet so sad.

After a few minutes, the woman slowly backed away from the grave's edge. One last look, and she turned away from all of the pain that the sight was causing her. Not a tear had she shed since that morning, and she could feel her resolve starting to break down. She knew that it would be natural for her to cry, but somehow she didn't want the others to see her that way. She had been the very picture of collectiveness when he was alive, why should his death break her? She was still her own person, wasn't she? She had lived before him, she could go on after him, right? She steeled her emotions against the breakdown she knew was inevitable, even as silent tears splashed down her cheeks. Her long strides took her back to the limosine waiting at the edge of the cemetary, the driver swiftly opening the door and depositing his passenger in the back.

The limo pulled away from the cemetary after all of the mourners had gone. The bright summer sunshine spilled through the windows, but fell on blind eyes. The single passenger in the backseat was not looking at the sun, nor of the scenery now a blur on the other side of the glass. She had yet to say a word to the driver or to anyone for that matter, so he silently returned her to the house. Such a tragic thing to happen to someone who was so young....

After the silent drive, she quietly stepped through the house that they had shared. With cat-like grace she moved through the rooms, carefull not to disturb anything that he might have held or used. All over were signs of him; the smell of his aftershave hung in his closet along with his suits, his reading glasses lined up alongside a volume of Shakespeare on the bedside table, his collection of antique keys hanging motionless on the ring near the kitchen door. She went from room to room, taking in every memory, every scent, every essence of him that she could. Stopping here and there to look at a photograph or pick up a book, she thought about him, about them, about their lives together. 

Their life had been happy, almost too happy. They fought only to make up again. Their lives were peaceful and content-him the chairman of the English department at the university, her the independant and spirited acting coach. Their imaginations had fed off of each other, not only intellectual but spiritual as well. They adored one another, and it was clear that they were as in love now as they had been the day they got married. They were the envy of the staff at the university, each having found that perfect someone in their lives. They had even jokingly talked about giving seminars on how to have a happy marriage.

She could hear the phone begin to ring from far away. It sounded as if it was at the end of a tunnel, a jarring intrusion into her silent and still world. Tears stinging in her eyes, she ran to the source of the noise and yanked the cord from the wall, ending the incessant ringing. Still holding the cord in one hand, she began to slid down the wall and sob, the noise having finally broken through the last bit of resolve she had left. 

* * * * * * * * 

It wasn't long after the funeral that the dreams started. They were always the same, distant screams, fear, running, terrible pain. And eyes. Always a pair of emotionless grey eyes. They unnerved her more than anything else. Those eyes haunted her when she woke screaming in the night. She saw them staring at her from every corner of the bedroom, only to fade and disappear once her vision had cleared. If he had been there, he would have held her like child until sleep would claim her once again. But, never again would she be comforted by his touch. 

The dreams came so often that she thought that she might have gone crazy. She still felt perfectly sane, although who knew what was perfectly sane anymore? Her world had been turned upside down and shaken, and she was left to pick up the pieces and reorder her life. She had to get back to living, to breathing, to being her own person, without him. The trouble was, she didn't know how to be her own person anymore. He had completed her. 

Alcohol numbed her brain to the point where the dreams didn't come anymore. She hardly ever drank, but was willing to try anything to make her forget. The first time, it burned in her throat and settled like hot lead in her stomach, but it gave her the sensation of floating. She knew that she should stop, so it was easy to put the top back on the bottle and go to bed. The first time, it was easy. A dreamless night had followed, so she was willing to try it again the next night, and then the next, and then the next, until not a night went by that she didn't open up the cabinet above the refridgerator to seek haven from the dreams. Not that she didn't dream, but the dreams were different. Soft music and lots of people, a meadow with people riding horses through it, a crackling fire in the woods, a red-headed woman, and Toby. Always Toby. The scenes varied each night, but he was always in the dream. 

Her family had suggested that she seek professional help for her depression. They had no idea of the other problems that had popped up in her life as of late. She kept her secret well hidden. She made sure that she was alone every night before the bottles came out of their cupboards. No knew about those, not even her psychiatrist. She had begun to see him some time after the funeral, begrudgingly at first. Then, her life began to regain a sense of normality again. School was to start soon and she had lesson plans to work out and exercises for her classes to create. Amidst all of these things, she had begun a diary of her innermost thoughts and feelings, for the benefit of Dr. Morris. 

On a balmy night near the middle of August, she had return home to the empty house. Every night she though that maybe she would come home to find him in his reading chair, grading papers or pouring over a favorite book. Quote the raven, Nevermore, she thought to herself as she snapped on the living room lamps. Leaving a trail of shoes, keys, and clothing across the room and down the hall, she longed for the comfort of her bed and a tall glass of heaven that would make the world fall down....

A few minutes later saw her changed into her pajamas with a brandy glass in her hand. Realizing that she owed Dr. Morris a new entry, she sat at her computer to write whatever was coming into her head.

'I can still sense him every now and then. My green sweater smelled of him when I put it on the other day. I let a   
single tear escape, but that was all. I passed the bed and smelled the cologne that he wore. Even though I knew it was   
just the sheets that I haven't gotten around to changing yet, I still toyed with the thought that he was still here,   
telling me not to be afraid. I saw the print off the bottom of his shoe in the carpet of my car, like he was sitting   
next to me, invisible. I'm afraid of what he would say if he knew how I have become. What have I become, really?'

She sighed and looked out onto the darkened street outside. Taking a long drink out of the glass, she turned back to the screen to write more. The combination of the mugginess of the room and the alcohol was proving to be too much for her, and the words began to blur together on the computer screen. They danced and fluttered in front of her eyes, wavering slightly, then changing positions completely, forming nonsense sentences and unpronouncable words. She rubbed her eyes with her finger tips, then stared at the now-white screen in front of her. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open at what she saw next.

On the sreen before her, words began to form sentences.

I move the stars for no one.

Just fear me...

love me...

Who are you? She typed out.

Do as I say...

"What do you want from me?" She cried out at her computer screen.

I will be your slave...

"Why are you doing this? Go away!"

As soon as it had started, it was over. The compose screen for her email account came back up, and she hit the send button without looking at the message that she had sent the Dr. Morris. She knew that he liked them to be longer, but she was feeling the alcohol just a little bit too much to write anymore for the evening. She shut down the computer and nearly collapsed into bed. The breeze outside of the window was playing through the trees, almost creating a laughing voice that was gently calling out to the slumbering form on the bed.

Sarah........


	2. A step into the past to find such a litt...

AN: Hmm...you like the first chapter, no? Maybe you stay for the second....

Chapter 2

She watched as Jareth lost the game that he had won so many times. She hadn't counted on the girl being so spirited and fiesty. There simply wasn't any other explanation for it. No one had ever thought to enlist the help of Labyrinth residents to help them win. They had never bent the rules in such a manner. There really weren't any rules against what she had done. Nonetheless, it was still amazing. Many things had become amazing to her, the one who watched over Jareth.

His father had never been one to steal unwanted and wished away children, but Jareth had proved to be a different kind of king than his father. Time and his past had left him bitter and harsh, very unlike the way he had been when he was younger. He stalked about his kingdom, wrecking havoc on its inhabitants, just to make himself feel better. The only problem was that he never did feel better. He only felt numb. She had hoped that this dark-haired girl would prove to break the Goblin King out of his gloom. She knew that she had caught Jaresth's eye when she saw the white owl visiting the park nearly every day that the girl was there. Normal owls just didn't spend that much time awake during the day. When she saw the girl wish away her brother, she knew that she would be different. She was lost in her world of fairy tales and make-believe, the perfect thing for Jareth to make into a reality. She began to have an idea how perfect the girl was when she saw her enter a little antique shop shortly before her trip through the Labyrinth. 

Sarah visited the shop often. It carried a large number of antique clothing and old costumes from shows that Sarah was familiar with. Her mother had frequented the shop when Sarah was a little girl, so she went there to try and capture a piece of that elusive figure from her past. She loved to run her hands over the soft fabrics of the costumes, taking in their smells and their feel. The store also carried a sizable number of costume jewelry. Nothing expensive, but unique pieces that had once sparkled and shone to make their owners proud. Sarah usually never looked at the rings and necklaces, passing them by for more tangible items. But on that day, a small golden band with a smooth pale stone appeared amongst the dusty reds and blues of the usual trinkets that occupied the case. It caught Sarah's eye immediately.

"How much for that ring?" She asked the shopkeeper.

"Ahh...I don't recall the price. Let me take it out of the case for you." With deft fingers, he slid a key into the lock and pushed the door open. Carefully removing it from the tray, he brought it in front of Sarah's dancing eyes. "Hmmm...I don't remember buying this piece. My granddaughter must have bought it when I was away last week. Darn it all, she forgot to price it. Well, I know that you come in here often, one of my best customers in fact. Why don't you just go on and take it. She couldn't have paid very much for it, seein's how it looks so new. Although, I have to say that I have never seen anything like it, old or new."

The a smile formed on the watcher's shadowy face as she saw the ring slide smoothly on to Sarah's finger. I knew it! Well, Em, I have done my part. Now it is up to Jareth to do his. Let's just hope that he isn't too caught up in his self-pity to realise what is staring him in the face.

She was also watching when Sarah had slipped the ring off of her finger to give to the old man that lived in the Labyrinth. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of the golden band dropping from sight and clinking delicately in the box. It couldn't have been more perfect had she planned it. She knew that the old man always showed Jareth the trinkets and junk that found their way into his wooden box, and then the Goblin King would immediately pick up on the ring, shining brightly among the tarnished and dusty things that he usually waded his way through. She could almost hear Emmaline laugh heartily as the whole thing took place. She knew darn well that it was time for someone to stop feeling sorry for themselves. And the sign of his queen finally showing up would be enough to make any one happy.

However, things did not bode well afterwards. Jareth was too occupied to see the old man when Sarah was still within the Labyrinth. He never had the opportunity to see all the plans that had taken so long to put into motion. The old man was sent away and told to come back later. The watcher knew that it could be several years before the old man remembered to show off his treasures again, and she could not risk jogging his memory a second time. All of her plans were ruined. Jareth was supposed to not only offer Sarah her dreams, but he would have known that she was the one that was meant for him, as evident of the ring that he had given so long ago to another. He would have been able to show Sarah what she meant to him, instead of being her ideal villain. He would have gone back to the way he was when he was young, before the ravages of time and being a king had jaded his perceptions. He would have realized that it was Em staring him in the face and telling him that he belonged with this girl.

Alas, even the best laid plans go awry.

* * * * * * * *

It had been a long ten years. Ten frustrating years for the watcher. She knew what she wanted to happen, but was powerless to do anything about it. She watched Jareth brood even more after Sarah had refused his offers, so drastically altered from his youth that he was not easily recognized, even by those that knew him as a child. The day Sarah married another was terrible. The watcher saw things that no one else had seen. She was there when Sarah had shooed everyone out of her childhood bedroom and took a sweeping glance around the room. Her expression was one of sadness and wanting. Her old music box came out of a drawer, wound, and played one last time as Sarah shut her eyes and let the music wash over her. The watcher knew what she was thinking about, for she had seen the dream encounter between Jareth and Sarah too. She knew that Jareth was looking at the whole thing through a crystal, she could feel his presence everywhere. She was surprised that Sarah had not picked up on it. Unstopped tears splashed down her cheeks as she slowly put away her childhood and faced her adult life. After the ceremony was over, the watcher slipped back to the Underground. She knew that he had watched the entire thing as well. She knew the scene that would be playing out in the castle at that moment, so she was not surprised to see Jareth with his head buried in his hands sitting on his throne, surrounded by smashed crystals and limping goblins. It would be useless to try and talk to him then, he would only get mad and say things that he would later regret.

And so the last ten years had been. He shut himself up in the castle, only to come out to take unwanted children and turn them into goblins. He neither saw anyone or summoned anyone to the castle. The goblins carried out his orders, and the kingdom fell to disrepair. The Labyrinth grew wild, becoming more and more difficult for travelers, who now had to deal with vines that had grown minds of their own, an outgrageous number of brownies that had learned how to change the very walls (even though the walls never needed much help in this department), not to mention those walls that had crumbled into a mass of heavy stone. The Goblin Kingdom became a joke within the Underground. 'The Kingdom without a King' was the laughing stock of everyone.

Everyone was going to be proven wrong if she had anything to do with it. It would be a stretch, but something had to be done. She hadn't attempted to talk to Jareth in a while. He knew that she would always be there when he called her, and she had been true to that. However, since Sarah's marriage, he hadn't bothered, preferring the solitude of his castle and his own thoughts. These thoughts ran through her mind as she summoned all of her power to become visible to him. She appeared in the throne room where she knew she would find him. Indeed, he was sitting as she knew he would be, lost in his thoughts, not even noticing her.

"Hello, Jareth."

He didn't look in her direction. Perhap he had seen her and just chose not to acknowledge her, "Just leave me alone, Muirin. I don't feel like having company."

"You don't have a choice. I'm here whether you like it or not." Stubborn man, as always.

That finally got a reaction out of him, "What is it that you want?"

She placed her shadowy hands on her hips, "I want to be alive again so I can kick some sense into that head of yours!"

Jaerth rose out of the throne, fire in his eyes. "Excuse me? Did you just call me an idiot?"

"No, but I was about to." 

"You forget yourself, Muirin. I am still king here." His eyes were getting a dangerous gleam.

"What are you going to do, banish me? I'm dead. Your rules don't apply to me."

Jareth looked grim.

"Oh, for the love of all that is Fae, get off your high horse and talk to me as a friend. I've put up with your moping for a long time now, and I am sick of it! You've let the castle and the labyrinth go to ruin because you are too much into wallowing in self-pity to pay any attention. Look around you, Jareth. Would your father be proud of what you have become?"

"I've been doomed to live a life of solitude and loneliness. Why should I care what anyone else things?"

"I saw the way you looked at her."

"Who?"

"Sarah"

"Don't ever mention that name to me again."

"Why, because you want to forget your love for her as well?"

He looked at Muirin, confusion on his face, "How did you know about that?"

"I'm not blind, Jareth. Plus, I'm the person who knows you best. I know how you feel. It's perfectly natural to feel the way you do."

"I can't feel this way. I will not replace my love for Emmaline with my love for Sarah."

"You don't have to! There is room in your heart for both of them. I'm not asking you to forget. I want you to be happy while still remembering the love you shared with Em. You know that she wouldn't want you to mourn her forever."

At that moment, a goblin came tumbling into the room. Jareth turned towards the noise and nearly ended the poor thing's life. "What is it?"

Cowering in the nearest corner, the goblin found enough courage to speak the reason why he had disrupted his king, "Your Majesty, Magnus is here."

"What for?"

"He is here to pay his taxes."

"Oh very well. Show him in. You, I will deal with later." A smile played about her mouth as she disappeared from sight. Things were working out perfectly. She had hoped that the old man wouldn't be too far away from the castle when he would 'suddenly' remember that he had taxes to pay. She knew what was waiting to be discovered in the old man's wooden box, and she knew that Jareth wouldn't miss it either. He really had no idea what was about to happen to him....

Jareth sighed impatiently as he waited for the old man. His taxes had been forgiven years ago when he had grown too old and senile to earn money, but he insisted on paying anyway. Trouble was, he only remember to pay them every few hundred years. He had once been a brilliant and talenteed advisor for the court, even maintaining rooms in the castle. He had been invited to stay there after his retirement, but had politely refused, stating that he would no longer be a burden to anyone. He had left one morning to find a small but comfortable cottage in the Labyrinth, secretly placed there by the royal family just for him. He spent his days traversing the twists and turns, offering broken and sometimes puzzling advice to travelers, accepting any form of payment that they were willing to give. With these he paid his taxes, allowing the Goblin King to pick whatever of the clinking and glittery masses that he wanted.

Today was no different. Magnus slowly shuffled his way to the large table, wearing his ever-present bird cap, complete with a long and thin neck topped by a bony and featherless head.

"Good day, Your Majesty." The old man gave a deep bow.

"Good day, Magnus. I trust you have been well?"

"As well as can be expected from living on top of someone's head." came the reply from the bird-hat.

"Will you please be quiet? His Majesty was not speaking to you."

"You can't expect them to all talk to you. I am a great conversationalist."

Jareth looked annoyed. "You are both welcome here. Now, shall we get on to the taxes?"

"The taxes?"

"Yes, the taxes!" Shrieked the bird.

"Ah yes. You will see that I have many beautiful items. Lots of travelers wanting advice these days. Seems like everyone wants to get someplace."

As he spoke, he pulled a battered wooden box out of his cloak and sumped the contents upon the table. His old and withered hands ran over the bracelets, coins, rings, time pieces and other assorted bits of paraphanelia, causing a soft clinking sound to fill the room. Jareth usually paid no attention to this process, randomly selecting a few pieces here and there, then slipping them back into the collection when the old man wasn't looking. Today, however, his eyes were captivated by the man's hands running continuously over the trinkets until one of them caught his eye. It was a ring. A gold ring with a smooth pale stone.

His mother's ring.

Quickly he snatched it up, turning it over in his fingers and blinking in disbelief several times.

"Where did you get this?"

"Hmm? Oh yes. I can't quite remember. So many, you know..."

The bird rolled its eyes, "Will you listen to him? Of course he remembers."

"I beg your pardon, I do not remember!"

"Must I do all of the remembering for you? She had dark hair and a short ugly man she kept calling her friend."

"How long ago was this?"

"Not long, but what does time matter?"

"It matters quite a lot right now."

The old man had drifted off by this time. Jareth knew that he wouldn't get anything else out of the pair, so he left them for his chambers. It was the one place where he knew that he wouldn't be disturbed. He needed to sort out everything in his mind. What had Sarah been doing with this ring? How had she come to have it? How was it even in existence anymore? He conjured a very painful memory, one that included the last time he had seen his dear Emmaline alive. The ring had crumbled to dust, almost immediatly after touching her skin. Yet, here it was, whole and just the way he remembered it.

What did it all mean?


	3. Silence so deep only my soul can hear

Chapter 3

Silence so deep only my soul can hear........

It didn't matter how many hours Sarah spent mindessly staring out into space, a blank expression offering no insight to her mind. Her daily life was a dream, nothing seemed solid or real anymore. The only thing that brought her back to reality was the lesson plans for her classes, but planning what plays and sketches the classes were to do was only another reason for her to shut out reality. With hot tears stinging in her eyes she turned away from the stack of Shakespeare, knowing what painful memories they would bring back. He had always known which plays to pick for her amongst that stack, and she could not bear the thought of ever teaching another again.

In the few days since the bizarre incidnet with her computer, her life had changed dramatically. She became paranoid that someone was watching her. Just when she thought that she might have been slightly recovering, her world had come crashing down yet again, and she couldn't explain it. She hardly left the house, perferring to keep all of the curtains and blinds closed. She had made a habit of living in the dark, turning on lights only when it was absolutely necessary. She didn't turn on the television or the radio and only went outside to collect the newspaper, which she promptly threw into the bin without removing the wrapper. She just sat and listened to the silence that hung in the air. Morning turned to day, day to night, then back to morning. Day after miserable day. Calls went unanswered and unreturned, some even unacknowledged. 

The dreams came all the time now. Ever since that night, the visions haunted her even when she was awake. Alcohol had stopped working, only succeeded in making them weirder and even more real than they already were. Some were so real that she knew she would be able to touch her surroundings just by reaching out her hand. They were visions of things she knew, but time had made her forget. Maturity had pushed them back into the recesses of her mind until not even she believed that they had happened. Too many lonely nights spent in the solitude of her old childhood bedroom had produced an overly active imagination. That was the only logical explanation for what had happened so long ago. No hard evidence existed that was able to prove otherwise. It was not real, her 'friends' were not real. He was not real. He just couldn't be...

On a particularly stormy morning, she remembered an appointment that she had made with Dr. Morris. Instead of giving in to temptation and cancelling, she begrudgingly showered and dressed, readying herself for what she knew was going to be a long session. She had gone without human contact for a while, so she knew that her introverted demeanor would cause him some alarm. Before long, she found herself outside of his office, climbing the stairase and shaking the rain from her clothing.

Sarah was not prepared for the reaction that her presence got from the receptionist in the waiting area. As soon as she had opened the door to the waiting area, the woman behind the desk jumped out of her chair and stuck her head into Dr. Morris' office. After several seconds of hurried whispering, the woman finally withdrew her head and turned smiling towards Sarah.

" Dr. Morris will see you right away. Go right in." She said through the strained and tight smile on her face.

Sarah didn't bother giving the woman an odd look when she passed. Strange behavior didn't bother her anymore. Some things were just better left unsaid and unexplained.Her senses seemed heightened as she took the cool doorknob in her hand, turned it with ease and entered the inner room. It was just like every other appointment that she had with the man, yet there was something unspoken, as if a secret had just been revealed in the few seconds preceeding her entry into the room, and she had not been told. Dr. Morris sat a little too straight in his chair, held his hands in manner that was a little too practiced. The air between doctor and patient was strained, much to Sarah's wonder. It wasn't as if she hadn't made contact with him in a while, and she had shown up for the appointment, so he shouldn't have been akward with her. She sat opposite him, focusing on the look on his face.

His cheshire cat grin faded a bit before he began talking, "Sarah, you sent me a very disturbing message the other night."

Her eyes widened a bit while she tried to figure out what he could possibly be talking about. "I thought that disturbing messages were the norm from your patients. I didn't think you rated them on how odd they were."

"This one was very odd, my dear." He began to tap his fingers together, forming a sort of cage.

"Isn't that a part of the reason why I am talking to you? I thought that people who saw psychiatrists said odd things anyway." She couldn't take her eyes off of his fingers.

"No, no, not necessarily. I think we may need to look at some extended care for you." Tap, tap, tap went his fingers. Sarah was distracted by thinking that the finger cage would be big enough for a fairy.

"What do you mean?" Came her half-thought about reply.

"Just a short stay at a quiet place where you can rest and be away from distractions. It would be an opportunity for us to get a better idea of how to treat you." Dr. Morris had risen from his chair and put his face directly in front of Sarah's. She had no choice but to look at him. 

"You think I'm crazy, don't you? You think that I am not fit to live among normal people. What made you think that?"

He cleared his throat and stood up, straightening his tie, "It was the email that you sent. It was very detatched and..."

"May I see it?" She rose from her chair and stood squarely in front of him. He moved around to his desk again, opened the top drawer and pulled out what she assumed to be her file. Flipping through a few pages, he withdrew one and handed it across to her.

She couldn't believe her eyes. On the paper was the email that she had sent two days previous. Underneath the paragraph that she had typed out was the cause of his alarm. It was the sentences that had mysteriously appeared on her monitor screen, the ones that she had replied so frantically to. Now that she had the opportunity to read the odd ramblings, she could see how they would make anyone believe that she needed serious help. 

"Oh this I can explain.. You see, my computer was acting funny that night. I think I must have gotten a wire crossed with a couple of kids and their instant message accounts."

"Sarah, I can tell that you are not telling me the truth. Now, why don't we schedule a visit in about a week's time? That will give you some time to think about how long you want to stay."

"But, classes start soon and I have lessons to get ready. I can't neglect my job."

"You can't neglect your mental health either. I'm sure the university will understand."

"But, no....I can' t possibly....I can't .." She turned and crossed the office in a few steps, opened the door and hurried through the reception area, not bothering to care about the stares that the others were giving her. In his office, Dr. Morris picked up his phone and dialed the number written on a scrap of paper he had pulled from his pocket.

"Mr. Williams? Yes, this is Dr. Morris. Yes, she was just here. I don't think she is going to take to the idea. Yes, I think that more drastic measures should be taken. I can have the team assembled tomorrow morning if need be. So, if I have your approval? Good."

* * * * * * * * *

Sarah was blinded by tears by the time she reached home. It took several tries before her trembling hands could get the key into the lock and actually turn in. What Dr. Morris said had shaken her so badly that she was afraid that she might not make it home. Step by shaky step took her into the kitchen, to the blissful oblivion that would come with the strong liquid that she sought. Pulling out bottle after bottle, her thoughts bounced around in her head.

"Not crazy.....only sad.....damn sad......crazy sad....."

She grabbed the first glass that she could find and filled it almost to the brim.......

Day became night, the night grew later. Around midnight, Sarah wandered back through the kitchen and noticed the collection of empty bottles littering the counter and floor, as well as those still full, standing tall and proud like a line of soldiers. Her thoughts wandered, making absolutely no sense, while from far away she heard the radio in her bedroom that she had turned on for comapany. The mindless chatter of the dj's announcing the latest contests and events that the commnity could get invovled in went unheard. The music went unheard. Phrases of songs floated through her mind, nonsense things that didn't connect. A voice from the radio reminded her of one that she had heard when she was young. One that had sung to her, one that belonged to someone who had held her close and danced with her, all the while trying to make her forget about that which she had wished away. But, that wasn't real. None of it had been real...

She leaned against a counter and slid down to the floor."You said that you would be there......Where are you?"

Nothing. Not a peep did she hear, save for the radio in the other room, "Damn you and your promises..."

The lights on the kitchen ceiling bounced and spun causing her to blink several times. The lights continued to waver.

A bit of song played over and over in her mind, and she said it out loud, just to break the silence,"As the pain sweeps through, makes no sense for you....."

* * * * * * * *

Sarah drifted between the wonderful floaty blackness and the blurry images in her kitchen. Things were so still, apart from the faact that her vision was casuing the to sway and bounce. Nothing moved of its own accord, and even if it had it probably would have made her ill. The floaty feeling enveloped her and her world faded more to black. From far away, she heard a voice calling her name.

"Sarah, open your eyes."

"Come now, don't be stubborn."

Sarah tried with all her might to lift her head all the way, but only managed a few inches. Opening her eyes was an easier task, but she resumed the battle with her blurry eyesight by blinking a few times. Through the haze a face appeared before her. It was a woman's face, soft and kind, framed by a mass of red hair.

"Who...who are you?"

"I'm here to protect you. Come on, let's get you into bed so you can sleep this off."

Sarah expected the woman to grab her hands and pull her to her feeet. However, she felt no grasp when she put out her hands.

"No, Sarah. You have to do this on you own. I can't help you."

Sarah blinked again and stared at the woman. The kind face smiled at her with understanding eyes. When she tried to take in the entire image, she couldn't help but wonder at the fuzzy edges that the woman had, kind of like the shadows of people on tv when the reception is bad. It took her several minutes to realize that she could see her dining room table right through the woman.


	4. What Was Lost Can Now Be Found

AN: I know this is the first addition to this story in nearly four years. I had this written a long time ago, but I've just recently rediscovered it, and I thought that I would put it up to see what everyone thought.

Chapter 4

What Was Lost Can Now Be Found

Sarah tried blinking several times, but she could still see through the woman in front of her.

"I'm sorry; I think I must be ill." The words came out slowly and clearly, as if she was thinking about each word before she said it, "but I swear that I can see right through you."

"That's probably because you really are seeing right through me. I'm a …." Muirin paused before continuing. Sarah's head had drooped against her chest, signaling her defeat in the battle against sleep. Muirin's sigh came out as a mere trickle of air. Things were not going well. At this rate, Sarah would drink herself to death before Jareth would realize what the ring was, and then the entire legacy of the Underground would be thrown into turmoil. Things did not bode well.

* * *

Jareth didn't notice the air shifting around him in the library when Muirin appeared behind him. She had to call to him before he would even acknowledge her presence.

"Can't you see I'm busy? I've got some research to do." Came his terse reply.

"What are you trying to find? Maybe I can help."

He paused to look at the small object he held in his hand, "It's this ring. It belonged to my mother, and it was the one that I meant Emmaline to have. The one that disappeared when I tried to put it on her finger the day she died. Now, I get it back from old Magnus, and he says that Sarah gave it to him. What in the world am I supposed to think?"

"Perhaps you are not meant to solve this on your own. Maybe the answer lies with someone else."

"Who would you suggest could help me? I know that you have someone in mind, or else you wouldn't have said anything." Jareth looked at her exasperated and closed the book that he'd had cracked open in his hand.

"Who had it before Magnus?"

"Sarah"

"Right. Well, suppose you ask her about it."

"I can't. She doesn't need me barging in on her life and disrupting her peace of mind. For the last fifteen years I have watched her memories of our world fade into oblivion while she made herself believe that none of it was real. Why should I bother with her now?"

"Because she needs you."

"Needs me! No one ever needs me. No, they need me to take away their screaming charges when they say a few careless words that they don't think will cause anything to happen. That's how she needed me, too. Now after all this time, and after she has forced herself into not believing in all this, she needs me. She hasn't called me. I would have heard her. How can you know that she needs me?"

"Gods in the Underground, I am sick of this! When will you stop thinking that everything is about you? This is about her and I am telling you that she needs you. She is trying to drink herself to death apparently, and she nearly succeeded when I was there." Her cheeks grew pink and her hair swayed around her face, signaling her growing anger and frustration with him.

He threw the book down and took a step towards his friend. "When you were where? You saw her? Aboveground?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. Until they took her away, at least."

"Who took her away? How long ago was this?"

"A man came into the house, calling her name. He was very upset when he found her, and called for the others to help him. She tried to put up a fight by saying that someone was already looking out for her, but it didn't work. There were too many of them. This happened two days ago and she has not come back to her house since then."

"And you waited the long to inform me? I should have been there from the start of all this. If her husband has done anything to hurt her, I swear I will…." He began to walk around like a caged animal.

"Jareth, no. It's not what you think. Please don't jump to any conclusions until you learn everything from her."

"What am I supposed to think? You tell me she is trying to drink herself to death. The only reason that anyone would do that is because they are unhappy, and he must be doing something to make her unhappy. He's lucky if he will live through what I am going to do to him."

"He's dead, Jareth. He was killed a few months ago."

"What?"

"It was an accident. Sarah's been drinking ever since. She's lost her will to live without him."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you were too busy jumping to conclusions. Please, you must help her. There is so much depending on her."

"Why do you care so much about her? You've never met her."

"Because I know you do."

He kept silent at what she had said, avoiding eye contact with her. Jareth disappeared, leaving Muirin alone in the library. She moved silently among the stacks of haphazardly opened books to a shelf in the farthest corner. Nothing had been moved off of these shelves, the floor being bare and void of the tilting piles that littered the rest of the library. Muirin looked up at the top shelf and a very large, very old book shuttered, then slid out of its place. It floated down towards her, then changed its course and traveled unaided to the table Jareth had been working at. Muirin smiled as she reached the table and saw the cover of the book. Goblins and Their Kingdom was nothing special. Just a history of the Goblin Kingdom, including a detailed history of the royal family, and a lengthy illustrated section on the crown jewels of the kingdom.

"Yes," she thought as she faded from the room. "Jareth will be very excited to see this."

* * *

For a moment, Jareth could not understand the sight before him. On the narrow bed lay the person who had occupied his thoughts everyday for the past fifteen years. Her appearance shocked him, making him wish that he'd not let her go all those years before. He would have kept her from becoming the person he saw before him. Her glossy brown hair was a dull and tangled mat that stuck to her sweaty and pale face. Her thin frame was evidence of the fact that she had not eaten properly in a while and her face was beginning to show the ravages that neglect and too much alcohol had caused. Unbeknownst to him, the only reason she was sleeping was because of the sedatives she'd been given. He moved next to the bed, bending to stroke her hair and face with his hand.

"My poor dearest Sarah. What has happened to make you like this? You were so full of life, so passionate about so many things. Why throw it all away? She did not stir beneath his touch, only continued her low and shallow breathing. He knew she was not well. She didn't have the appearance of one who was getting during their sleep. His hand slid down her shoulder, following the recesses of her arm, finally stopping at her hand. He marveled at how small and delicate they seemed, yet how strong that he knew they were. Long and slender fingers topped by perfectly rounded tips that were so cold to the touch he could feel the chill through his gloves. Her hands were both freezing; in fact, until this moment, he had not taken notice of the chill that hung in the air. It was everywhere, pressing on him, forcing air out of his lungs in great gasps. That was when he noticed the shadows in the corner. He did not move, but continued to hold her hands and take in her features. He watched her chest rise and fall as she breathed, each becoming shallower than the one before. He knew why the shadow had fallen across her room.

"No." He whispered. "You cannot have her."

"But she wants to go." Came the raspy reply.

"I don't care."

"She might as well be dead already. The doctors are not holding out any hope. Why don't you let it go?"

"Because."

"Because why? I'm going to need a reason."

"Because I need her. I lost her once, and I'm not about to loose her again."

"Very well. But you mustn't let her return here to earth. She will be dead to them."

"Will she remember any of this?"

"No, these past few hours will die as well. Take her now, for she needs care."

Without another word, the shadows recessed to the corner and disappeared. Jareth felt the air shift and warm around him as he reached to take her hand again. This time at his touch, she stirred. A small sigh escaped her lips as he bent down to kiss her lightly on the cheek.

"Don't worry, Dearest one. Nothing will make you sad again. I'm here now." He slid his hand beneath her gaunt frame and lifted her effortlessly off the bed. Without looking back, he turned and walked towards the window, slowly disappearing from sight.

* * *

Robert Williams stood in the doorway of what had been his daughter's hospital room. The bed had been stripped of the sheets and the faint odor of disinfectant hung in the air. Sarah's few things had already been removed from the room, making him realize that even though a person had just died in this room that morning, the staff considered things still business as usual.

When he'd gotten the call from Sarah's psychiatrist, he knew that things were not going well. He'd grown worried at her silence, always hoping that she would pick up the phone or at least call him back. When he saw her that last morning, he was unprepared to se her in such a downward spiral, fueled by the alcohol that she had kept hidden from the world. He had not left the hospital in two days, hoping against hope that she would recover. Alcohol poisoning was the almost immediate response from the emergency room doctor that had cared for her. He said that if things didn't look better in a few hours, it would take a miracle to bring her back. She had never gotten better.

With a weary sigh he turned from the room. She was gone, but there was still so much left to do for her.


End file.
